Get Lost
by Cessy
Summary: *Yaoi* {?XDuo} The Gundam pilots are angry at Duo for a mistake he's made during a mission where someone gets hurt, but it only gets worse as the others turn against him. Only one person is willing to help...
1. Prologue

GetLost

**Get Lost**   
**Chapter 1**   
**Fanfic by: Cessy Angel**

  
"Mission accomplished!" Duo clasped his hands together and smirked to himself. True, it had been an easy mission, even though there was a delay in action, but as always, as long as the mission was finished and everyone was alright, it didn't bother Duo.

Duo Maxwell, only 16 years of age, yet he was already submitted to wars. Since his young age, he had learned to go on with the fact that people died, and the fact that he himself would be the one causing those deaths. But after so many years, after so many murders, it was only a matter of time until a smile appeared on his face. Only a Shinigami could smile when facing with death.

Then again, there is always something far worse than death. Like living, and missing something at the same time. And that, that is something you get from others. Forget everything and smile.

The young American jumped out of his Gundam and walked towards the other pilots, who were already huddled in front of the exit. Their backs were turned as he approached them, but all he did was put an arm around Heero's neck and give the others a big grin.

"Didn't that mission go well?" Duo mused.

Brusquely, Heero's hand brushed the other's arms off his shoulder. "No. Duo, because of your escapades, Quatre almost got killed by those OZ soldiers! Don't you think of anyone but yourself?"

Heero's cold brown eyes showed that he was being serious, and only then did Duo notice that Trowa and Wufei were also giving him the same glare. It suddenly made him feel uncomfortable, being under the examination of some of his fellow pilots.

Quatre suddenly spoke up, a hand behind his helmet as he took it off and shook his blond hair. "Guys, come on. You can't blame Duo for that. It was my fault, I should have retreated right away instead of finishing those last Cancer Suits."

"Stop thinking like that. It was because of Maxwell that you injured your arm, ne?" Wufei pointed towards Quatre's arm, where a patch of blood had seeped through the suit he had been wearing. "He should have payed more attention to what his mission was. Such complications should never happen on such an easy mission."

"..." Trowa only looked down and back to Duo, who was standing against the railing with a confused look on his face. Both of his hands were clutching the metal bars, and then became tighter as the others continued to look at him.

"Look! I'm sorry! It won't happen again, okay?" Duo looked at the four pilots in what seemed like anger, then began walking towards the exit, hoping to reach it before anyone else said a word to him.

"Next time will be in a long while, Duo. You'll have to stay behind for the next couple of missions. We just can't accept any more complications, or OZ will think of us as unstable." Heero spoke without emotion, certainly he didn't care what the other pilot would say to him.

"Nani?!" Duo swirled around, only to face the same emotionless face he had seen so many times, but this time, even his blank eyes made his cheeks burn red in anger. His fists clenched and he continued to eye the others, then turned away and walked out of the room angrily.

"It's for the best." Heero sighed to himself and walked in the opposite direction.

"True." Wufei agreed.

"But you guys! It was _my_ fault! Don't go blaming Duo!" Quatre continued to protest, even though he knew that it was almost impossible to change Heero and Wufei's minds. Both were stubborn, but he still had hope in his long time friend. "Trowa, don't you agree with me?"

"... For the best, Quatre." Trowa repeated. His eyes closed for a moment. He then reopened them and looked sadly in the others eyes. "We can't take the chance of anyone getting hurt, please understand."

Trowa's hand brushed on Quatre's shoulder before he also left the room. Now Quatre was alone, only a pale wash of light illuminated the room. It suddenly started to get colder, and the only sound that came from it was Quatre's light breath.

"Trowa, sometimes getting hurt isn't just physically..."

Footsteps echoed throughout the empty room, and only the young Arabian was left to shut the lights, where only blackness enveloped the lonely soul. His hands reached for the door, and so silently did he whisper the name.

"I'm sorry, Duo..."

  
**Author's Note:** Yep, you guessed it. This will be a QuatreXDuo fanfic. (But they make such a kawaii pairing...) Anyways, I don't know how long this fic will last, but I'm really into it so it should be finished in no time. Please review! I need to know if this fic is worth continuing!   



	2. Written beneath the moonlight

GetLost2

**Get Lost**   
**Chapter 2**   
**Story by: Cessy Angel**

  


Footsteps echoed throughout the darkened house, only a faint wash of moonlight illuminated the hallway as Duo walked in silence, his head bowed and his hands tightened into knuckles that hung against his hips as he moved. Rage and sadness mixed together made a toy of his soul.

"Stupid Heero, where does he go off telling me what to or not to do?"

Finally he sighed and entered the room, but not before slamming the door behind him. He stood there, motionless, leaning against the door as his eyes scanned the room slowly, and then his head lifted towards the starry night.

"Why do they do this to me? Am I so different that they think of me as a unelaborate follower?"

His whispers were taken away by the light breeze that came from the open window in front of him. Quietly, he walked to his bed and let himself fall onto the drapes, while bringing a pillow to his chin while he sought to find sleep. His eyes began to slowly close...

"Duo?" Someone's voice resonated from the other side of the door.

"Go away." Duo didn't feel like talking to another, and it irritated him for someone else to try to console him. _Except if it's Heero with a deep apology._ Duo mused. Of course, that would never happen. Sleep began to creep back into his eyes and again they closed slowly.

"Duo, it's Quatre, can I come in?" He sounded so depressed at that moment.

"No!" Duo yelled loudly. His eyes snapped open and he jumped out of his bed and locked the door. His head leaned on the door and he though he heard a gasp from the other side of the door. "Just leave me alone..."

"But-"

"I said go away!" Hands clutched his head and he slumped against the door. His lower lip trembled and his eyes were forced shut. Faintly, he could hear the footsteps on the other side of the door back away, and then slowly walking away from the door until the silence took over again.

"I'm sorry too, Quatre..."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

_Why are you putting yourself through this, Duo?_ Quatre walked away from the room. Boots resounded the silence that had settled in the house. Usually, it would be rustling with noise, people working here, others going there, but not tonight, why?

The Arabian boy found himself stopped in front of the library. It was his family's house, after all. But something with the library's atmosphere made Quatre want to stay, and he did so, gently closing the door behind him.

"Dammit, where's that light switch?" Quatre swore under his breath after he saw that he was enclosed in darkness. His hands reached alongside the wall and finally he found the contour of a lamp in which he pulled a dusty rope so that the light filled the room.

He winced, his eyes not completely used to the bright rays. A hand wiped the side of his face, and he clumsily walked towards a couch laying against the wall. The fabric was soft, except for all the dust that covered it.

"Why didn't I even notice that we had a library before?" Quatre never recalled having a library, oh well, maybe it had just slipped from his mind. Many things seemed to have slipped his mind lately, more or less, they always had.

A row of books were maintained on his left, his right, and behind him. Towers they seemed, hovering titles and titles of all different languages, French, Spanish, old English, and even Latin. It must have taken years if not decades to collect so many books. What were their purpose?

Something caught Quatre's eye. The letters were almost altogether covered with a layer of dust, but were still readable. The Arabian stood on the couch and reached on his left, his hand swinging back and forth to attain his destination.

Eventually, after two or three minutes, the book laid on his lap. His fingers brushed away the dust delicately so that he could read the inscription on the ruby red cover.

"_From Life to Death_, by... I can't read the author. Oh well. It looks like an autobiography... no, more like a journal." He put the book back on the small shelf that was next to him. "I shouldn't read this, it wouldn't be respecting the author... but... what makes me want to read it so badly?"

Quatre's gaze kept returning to the book. It was almost as if the book called his name, or someone else's name instead. It burned through him, as if a part of him were being pinched. In a gasp of pure curiousness and exasperation, he took the journal again and opened to the first page. The writing looked fairly old, and the paper was crisp with years, but it was the way it was written that looked more extravagant, each letter seemed to have a meaning, every word an illusion.

_To whomever reads this,___

_ I surely hope that someone will read this, to continue what I first started when I was merely a young boy. These writing, they are so much more than just letters, written words, paragraphs, they are like the whisper of a fallen angel, the sweetest voice imaginable. You put your eyes on these words, and I put my eyes on you, my feathers falling upon your head, young one. My time is gone, and I will go, but not without forgetting a secret that I must share and entrust with you. Please, save my son from the war, never let him see another man die in front of his eyes, never let him touch a weapon of death, and I beg of you, never let him kill another. I'll be watching...___

_ Setheus_

Quatre's eyes misted, and he wiped at his eyes continuously. He turned to the next page, but found it blank. He continued turning the pages, but they were all completely blank!

"Who is... he?" Quatre closed his eyes and hugged the book closely to his chest. His eyes closed and sleep overcame him. Maybe tomorrow he would continue searching for more information on this author.

But it seemed that another mission was already scheduled to be taken place on tomorrow.   


*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* **Author's note:** Well, what did you think of it? Confusing, ne? I don't know who Setheus is, I just really liked the idea. It'll probably grow more as the story deepens. You guys better be glad, it took be 3 hours to write this! I hurt my left hand pretty badly, and it's like hell trying to type. Oh well, I'll finish rambling on and on now, please review! 


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